


Way to the impossible ( Inglish)

by CandelaBriefs12



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:27:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24671563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CandelaBriefs12/pseuds/CandelaBriefs12
Summary: We are in the 17th century. Bulma is the daughter of a Duke and has to marry a man of power. Things get complicated when she meets Vegeta, who is anything but a prince.Can they go against everything to be together?
Relationships: Bulma Briefs/Vegeta
Comments: 36
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter 1

_Straight posture, head up, discreet smile, hands on thighs_.

A small sigh came from her red lips, trying not to forget the mantra her mother put in her head, to be a proper lady. 

The necklace with the little ruby moved slowly over her chest with her slow breathing, she nodded and listened or rather "pretended" to hear the talk the man was giving her. Today was one of the first parties for her father's friends to meet her and see if she is fit to marry his children, pathetic. She never wanted to get married and was less than happy about it, she wanted to study, to know the world, to live. Not to serve a fool with an air of grandeur all her life.

"Miss Bulma, you're a lovely girl. I would very much like you to meet my son, Esteban. He is starting his political career and his future is promising," the man said in front of her, taking her out of her thoughts. 

"Oh Richard, it would be a pleasure. But you know you have to talk to my father first," she said politely, chuckling. She rose from her chair gracefully and nodded to the gentlemen around her until she reached her mother, "I don't feel well. I need to retire to my room, if I may." 

Bunny sighed and approached her daughter, arranging the coral dress she had chosen tonight. "I don't need you to lie to me Bulma, but you surprised me. You've lasted longer than I expected," she caressed her cheek fondly. "We only want what is best for you, my dear. We will find you a good husband," she said before kissing her cheek. Bulma turned to see her mother walking gracefully towards her father who was talking and drinking whiskey with many gentlemen. She retired to her room, a novel by Charles Dickens waiting patiently in her bed.

And so the months went by; party after party, meeting after meeting. Dozens of men in the prime of their youth trying to win her father's permission to marry his beloved and only daughter. It was not always possible for a daughter to marry someone as powerful as a Duke, let alone as handsome. 

Until that fateful day came.

Bulma was in her room writing in her secret diary, she had gotten some study books smuggled into town and began her study in the sciences. It was something she loved, but clearly, no one could know her opinion on the Newtonian principles in astronomy, mathematics, and physics.

A slight knock on the door alerted Bulma and took her mind off her mathematical exercise. 

"One second," she said politely, quickly putting her books away in a secret space she had designed in her desk, then she turned to the mirror and began to comb her beautiful blue hair. "Go ahead."

"Miss Bulma, your parents request your presence in the library" Beratrix, the longtime maid was standing at your door with a shy smile. 

"Oh yes, I'll be right there. Thank you Beratrix," she said as she nodded, the maid just smiled and closed the door behind her. Oh hell, if her parents wanted a meeting in the library, nothing good could come of it. Bulma flattened her dress of the day, navy blue with a straight décolleté and long sleeves. She put her hair behind her ears and headed to the library.

"We've found the right one Bulma! You'll be married by the weekend," said her father proudly, smoking a cigar, with her mother at his side. Bulma squeezed the armrest of the sofa where she was sitting with her perfectly painted nails, trying to quell a scream. 

She took up her position, "So... so soon? Who is he?" she said as calmly as she could. 

"Oh Bulma is a darling, his name is Yamcha. He's French! He has a lot of power, good political status, and a 20-hectare ranch. Just amazing!" Bunny said.

Yamcha? She had never heard of him, she was sure he wasn't one of those idiots who had come to see her. But what did she care if he was ridiculously rich? What about love? Or if they were at least compatible? Thousands of questions like these ran through Bulma's mind, but even after 21 long years, she already knew the answers from her parents: Look at your mother and I. Blah blah blah.

A long time ago she would have run away from this, thrown the tantrum of her life so that her parents would come to their senses and not give her to some random guy with ridiculously large bills in his wallet. Many girls would have dreamed of being in her position, but this was not for her. However, she already knew what the story was like, so over the years, she knew how to "deal with it" so she just gave in to the fate that her parents were in control of writing.

At least her parents had the decency to put together a dinner to meet her future husband before the wedding. After a hot bath and lots of creams, the maids helped her with her flowered corset and her big pastel pink skirt. It was a simple but extremely delicate dress, "Latest Fashion" as her mother would say. On her feet, she wore white heels and her hair was gathered in a crown-like braid; the make-up was light, with a quiet rose posing on her lips, she looked extremely delicate with her milky skin. 

"Bulma your posture" her mother whispered behind her touching her back to straighten her out, with a sigh she straightened her posture, placed her arms delicately in front of her and a smile without showing her teeth towards the door, waiting for the arrival of what would be the man who would share her life.

Her father on one side and her mother on the other, Beratrix opened the door, introducing Mr. Yamcha. Bulma played a little with the gold bracelet she was wearing. Fortunately, he wasn't ugly. He was tall, had a scar on the left side of his face, brown eyes, and from his physical build he seemed to be in good shape, but nothing exaggerated. He smiled at her parents politely greeting them until he focused his attention on her, with a crooked smile he took her delicate hand and placed a kiss on it.

"A pleasure to finally meet you, my dear, " he whispered without breaking eye contact. 

Idiot.

"The pleasure is mine, Mr. Yamcha," she said, taking her hand back slowly. Dinner happened without incident. As she suspected, the guy was the son of a politician who was a close friend of her father's and had recently passed away, and Yamcha inherited the entire fortune. His big income was his cotton hectares, the best in all of France supposedly. He had many people working for him and a mansion with 10 rooms. 

Who needs such a big house? He was 25 years old, a little older than her clearly. 

He expressed how excited he was about our wedding, but said that they couldn't have a honeymoon until the middle of the year because he had some trips scheduled, treaties his father had left. At first glance he seemed like a charming man, too much for Bulma's taste...something didn't fit but he didn't care much about that.

The weekend came too fast and she was already with her mother and three other maids trying to get her into a ridiculous, fluffy, hideous wedding dress. Not wanting to get married, she had left all the planning to her mother, who was delighted. That included choosing the wedding dress. 

"Bulma dear, hold your breath a little longer, it's still not tight enough," whispered her mother as she pulled the strings of the corset. Bulma did her best, she could feel her face red with fury and how her breasts already wanted to come out of their tight hiding place behind that annoying heart neckline. After several minutes of fighting, she was finally ready, the ridiculously big dress together with the exaggerated hairstyle made her look like a fucking porcelain doll, she just wanted all this to be over so she could breathe again.

The party was a bit heavy, Yamcha kept telling her how lovely she was and how lucky he was to have her. He wouldn't leave her alone for a minute, always trying to make conversation with people of great power and use her as a means for people to get to know him. It was obvious what he was doing but Bulma played her role well and pretended not to notice what was going on. But that was not what Bulma was worried about, she was nervous about what was coming after the wedding...the wedding night. A stomach ache invaded her when she thought about it, she didn't know if she was ready but she had to, as Yamcha's stay was 5 days by carriage and 4 hours by train, they decided that the best thing was to stay at her house tonight and leave tomorrow morning.

As the last guest left, Bulma led Yamcha to her room for the night, her first night of marriage. She was playing with her hands nervously when they entered. Yamcha closed the door behind him and came closer, she could feel his firm chest-bumping against her back.

"I promise to be careful" he whispered leaving kisses on his neck. 

She sighed as she felt his touch. "Can you please take off the corset," she said, barely audible with reddened cheeks. She was very embarrassed, but being so many hours without air began to affect her greatly. He just started to take it off slowly, and she was a little upset to notice how he knew how to do it, clearly, it was not his first time undressing a woman. Feeling it out of her system, she immediately covered her chest and breathed a sigh of relief.

He just laughed and kept undressing her.

Her first time was painful, and she felt nothing. 

There was no love, no passion, only dry kisses and everything seemed forced, nothing that the romance novels told her, a disappointment. She sighed as she tossed and turned, Yamcha had fallen asleep as soon as she had finished and had a slight snore. Bulma got up from her bed and went to the big window, looking at the beautiful garden and the starry night that was coming. 

Would her life be like that? 

Would she never be able to find happiness? 

She stretched out her white nightgown well and pressed her knees to her chest, not taking her eyes off the outside, thinking of the uncertain future that would await her from tomorrow.


	2. Nothing is What It Seems

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Strong situations from this chapter onwards, you have been warned

It was just wonderful. The big house was perfectly in the middle of the 20 hectares, surrounded by trees and flowers, while behind it began the fields. Bulma couldn't take her eyes off the carriage window, it was wonderful. Her garden was worthy of admiration but this exceeded all limits.

"I see that you are amazed, my dear. I'm glad you like our home," said Yamcha who until now had ignored her presence, she could feel her big hand pressing against her thigh and a tingle of discomfort pierced it. She nodded uncomfortably, trying not to make eye contact with him... until now he had been more than a gentleman.

When Bulma reached the front door she could see the house better. It was clearly huge, white wood and huge windows covered it with a big roof. It seemed that all the rooms had a beautiful view, as they were surrounded by pure nature. On the way, she realized that it was a 20-minute drive to the village, quite far away. Some small stairs were in front of her so that she could go up to the entrance. Yamcha soon gave her arm to help her and she accepted. When three ladies entered, they were greeted cordially; from their clothes, they seemed to play a similar role to Beratrix.

"Bulma, this is Andrea, Joana, and Marina. They are housekeepers and clean the whole house. They will be at your disposal 24 hours a day," Yamcha explained.

Bulma nodded politely to each woman. Andrea was a redhead with blue eyes, Joana had brown hair with brown eyes and Marina had beautiful blonde hair and green eyes. They looked quite young, like Mr. Yamcha's age.

After a tour of the entire house, which lasted too long for Bulma's taste, Yamcha told her that he had some business to attend to in his study and gave her a moment of peace. Having said that, he decided to take a hot bath and then eat some snacks. After this, she took her book and went outside, she really wanted to walk around the huge garden.

Bulma loved nature as much as she loved her studio. As a child, she used to escape from her classes of manners to be able to go and play with the plants and climb trees. She was a very good climber and that served her very well in her adolescence, more so when she needed to escape from her mother. As a result, Bulma came across a large Montorgueil tree with many branches. She smiled mischievously and quickly turned around to see if anyone was nearby. Seeing that she was completely alone, she decided to climb, luckily she was wearing a light dress that was easy to handle.

After finding a suitable branch to lie down she observed the view from that height and could see in the distance a small pond not far from here. This place did not cease to surprise her. She was about to look away when she thought she saw ahead coming out of the water, Bulma narrowed her eyes trying to have a better view and yes, there was definitely a person swimming around.

The person started to come out of the water little by little, Bulma was quite far away really but by the build, she could tell it was a man. A hair that looked like a flame was sticking out, followed by a naked torso, which from a distance looked very well-formed, but thank God the man was wearing white linen pants. Bulma covered her mouth and a blush on her cheeks began to appear. How inappropriate, she was a lady! But even though she wanted to, she could not look away, until some footsteps underneath her took her attention.

Just under the tree, you could see the three ladies of today talking quietly and looking all around, Bulma, curious, tried to listen carefully.

_"She... beautiful"... "No... married"... "Wild"... "Poor her"_ Those were the words that Bulma could rescue from her conversation until the women left. She raised a confused eyebrow trying to put the pieces together. What did these women want to say?

When the sun was threatening to disappear, Bulma decided it was time to return to the house. Those words still echoed in her head, her curious mind playing tricks on her. As she entered the house she noticed that everything was dark and silent, only the light from her husband's study could be seen. 

"Bulma, come here," Yamcha pronounced in a low voice, at this Bulma was a bit startled by his abruptness when he called her and came closer to the study.

The study was huge and very well decorated. Yamcha was sitting behind his desk with a serious look on her face, Bulma stayed in the entrance for some reason and did not want to get too close to him. 

"Come here, immediately," he grunted, pounding on the desk, making her jump. "What the hell?”

She came closer until he was next to her, she literally didn't have time to react as he stood up quickly and grabbed her by her blue braid, resting her on the desk with her back to him. 

"Where the hell were you, you fucking bitch? HOURS OF LOOKING, WHERE WERE YOU?!" he screamed. She was still in a state of shock, this had never happened before and she didn't know how to react, but this was not right. "I tried to ask politely,” as he pulled her hair firmly, he laughed cynically and pulled her hair harder, bringing his face closer to hers. “Now I'll teach you to behave properly, you rude bitch."

That didn't mean anything good, she knew something was wrong with him. Bulma started to struggle, trying to get away from them but it was in vain. 

"The more you struggle, the worse I'll make you feel," he said angrily, lifting up her dress, taking both her arms and holding her down so she couldn’t move. 

"Let me go, damn it!" Bulma said with all her strength, closing her eyes so as not to give her the pleasure of seeing her cry. She tried everything, but he brutally raped her on the desk anyway.

When he finished he took her to his room and didn't let her take a bath, _so she would have the memory of what happened if she didn't do things right_. She clearly couldn't sleep that night, crying silently as far as she could from the maniac who was sleeping peacefully next to her. Why did this have to happen to her? Wasn't it enough to marry someone she didn't love? No, she needed to add maniac, beater, and rapist to the list. She needed to find a way to connect with her family, to be saved from this. For now, her best option was to obey, and when she's not around to come up with her plan.

She'd been in that hellhole for a week now. Whatever little mistake she made, there was Yamcha to punish her. Bulma felt completely alone, devastated. He wouldn't let her go to the village, she couldn't send letters to her parents, she couldn't even go to the garden! She had to stay locked up cooking Mr. Yamcha's meals. In fact, she considered poisoning him, but unfortunately, she knew that would be impossible; whenever he discovered that something was being done that he hadn't allowed her to do, something as simple as reading a book, he found out quickly and punished her with slaps or worse. Bulma came to the conclusion that the servants told Mr. Yamcha everything she did, so she was completely alone.

Bulma found herself cutting tomatoes for a stew she was making for dinner, silent tears came to her eyes but there was no emotion in her. It was about 6 pm, two other maids were in the kitchen, peeling potatoes and other vegetables when the back door opened.

"I brought the seasonal fruit, tell Mr. Yamcha that the orange tree was infected with insects and I won't be able to harvest until the next season," a thick voice commented behind Bulma. She turned to look at the intruder, her heart almost falling out at the sight before her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I hope you liked chapter two, I promise we'll have more Vegeta here soon... You know your comments help a lot to inspire, anyway thanks for taking the time to read. I hope to update again soon!  
> I have to deeply thank Naomi Smith for her correction in my chapters with this language, you don't know how difficult it is for me to be able to write you something that is not in my mother tongue. But you make it worthwhile, so all my gratitude to you and Naomi You're the best!


	3. Bad Reputation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need to thank GrammarGrrrl deeply before starting this chapter, thanks for the correction of my chapters, you are the best!

She turned to look at the intruder, her heart almost falling out at the sight of that flaming hair she had seen in that lake.

"Are you the new maid?" he asked.

Bulma took some offense at that but wiped her hands on her apron and denied, "I am Mr. Yamcha's wife, Bulma. And you are?" she asked politely.

The man's frown vanished, and a look of amazement replaced it as he quickly set the fruit crates aside. "Shit," he grunted as he left the kitchen without saying another word, heading for the basement. 

Bulma turned around again to see the maid who was helping her. "Who is that?" she asked, whispering to the girl. 

"That’s Vegeta, he takes care of Mr. Yamcha's garden and orchard,” she explained. “He left quickly because Mr. Yamcha threatened all the male staff. If they had any contact with you whatsoever, they would be punished," she said quickly, a little scared. 

She was the first maid of all who answered her and did not give her an ugly look. Bulma sighed, he was not only crazy but also ridiculously jealous. 

"The master will find out that you talked to another man," said the other woman from the other side of the kitchen, with an air of grandeur. 

Oh hell, Bulma was starting to get tired of this shit. She quickly took the knife from the table and went over to the woman, cornering her against the wall with the knife to her throat, "Look you fucking bitch, I'm sick of you all being fucking snitches for such mundane things as crossing polite words with another person. You say something to your fucking Mr. Yamcha and you won't have another day of gossip, you hear?" she grunted at her as she stuck the knife in the wooden table. 

Bulma had to start making herself respected, at least with the servants, this was already tiring her and she couldn't go on like this.

"I ordered you a party dress, tonight politicians will come to negotiate the import of our cotton. It's a great treaty I've been working on for a long time. And you as my wife have to be there," Yamcha said as he ate his dinner quietly, without looking at her. 

Bulma sighed as she played with the vegetables on her plate, nodding boringly. The least she wanted right now was a useless party where she had to pretend to be happy and be a lady in front of other people. A loud noise distracted Bulma from her thoughts. 

Yamcha's fist had echoed across the table, "If I talk to you, you answer correctly!" He grunted in anger at her staring. 

"Yes, Mr. Yamcha," said Bulma with clenched teeth, clenching her fist under the table. How much more could she take off all this?

After that uncomfortable dinner, Bulma went to take a bath and then went to bed. As the hours passed and she felt that Yamcha had finally fallen into a deep sleep, she decided to get up slowly. She took a shawl and wrapped it around her shoulders, then took her notebook and pencil. Shee left the room very carefully. According to her calculations, the servants went to bed at 1:30 in the morning, it was already 3 o'clock so surely there was no one awake in the house.

She went out into the big garden to the tree where she had first climbed up the beautiful place. When she found the desired position, she opened her notebook and began her calculations. Bulma had an idea that she could finally free herself from Yamcha and escape forever. Unfortunately asking her parents for help would not be possible as they may not believe her or know the power that Yamcha has, there is also the option of her threatening them. So Bulma started working on a project for a much more powerful boat than those known today. Thanks to her father's position she was lucky enough to travel around the world with the royal ships and study them in secret, they were her passion since she was a child. So she had tried to find a much cheaper and faster way to minimize the travel time, she was close to this and she knew it. But the only problem was that she was a woman. No one would ever listen to her or take her invention into account, but she also found a solution for this. Find some man who would listen to her and pass off her idea as his, then all she would ask for in return was a boat ticket to America and some money, then she could manage somehow. The taste of freedom was getting closer and closer.

After several hours of concentration, Bulma fell asleep on the branch of the big tree. Small bursts of light filtered through the leaves of the tree, reaching the eyelids of the beautiful blue woman. A big yawn came out of her mouth along with a stretch of arms, as she did this she lost her balance and a big scream came out of her mouth. It is my damned end, crossed her mind waiting for the terrible fall...which never came.

Strong tanned arms cradled her little body, saving her from the great shock 

"Stupid woman! Who the hell falls asleep in a tree? Are you a monkey?" Her savior grunted in anger. 

Amidst the drowsiness of her new awakening, Bulma looked at the man. It was hair on fire! But much closer than ever. His sharp face and scowl stared at her, onyx eyes against the celestial sky. From her peripheral vision, she could tell that the man wore no shirt at all, only his bare, tanned torso sculpted by the gods. Soon Bulma began to turn red and decided to recover some of the decency she had left. 

"I am not a monkey! Let go of me, you savage," she said angrily, trying to free herself from his arms. 

“Okey a las órdenes madame," and so Vegeta released her without ceremony, letting her fall to the ground. 

Bulma grunted in pain and caressed her ass, "You are an idiot!" She sighed, taking her notebook and pencil, getting up with some difficulty. 

"If anything, you are welcome to save yourself" Vegeta surrounded her eyes and took again the drawers of vegetables that she had previously carried on one of her shoulders "By the way, it is 15 minutes to 8 o'clock. You don't want your husband to wake up and you are not there," he said before disappearing into the trees.

"Damn it," Bulma whispered, starting to run towards the house. She always came back at 5 a.m. at the latest, so she could enter through the kitchen and climb upstairs quietly, the servant would start with their housework at 5:30. But it was almost 8:00, so everyone was up! 

_ Think Bulma... think!  _

"BINGO!" she said in a little shout of emotion. When she reached the house, she hid in the bushes until she saw the window facing her room which, thanks to the heat, was completely open. She looked around before starting to climb up the wall, with the help of the vine. She tried to do it as fast as possible and arrived successfully.

She carefully opened the window, looking at Yamcha's body with his back to her. She took off her shawl and quickly cleaned her nightgown a bit, then got into bed (leaving her notebook under her pillow) and closed her eyes, mission accomplished.

Once again, she was in a tight and unnecessarily large and fluffy dress, with an absurd amount of makeup. Yamcha's arm held her by the waist with a little strength, as if trying to keep her from escaping from his side at any moment. Bulma tried to put on her best face while pretending to pay attention to the boring talks her husband had with a bunch of boring men. Clearly his marriage to her opened up many ways for him to have much more power than he had, that was always his goal. 

"Dear, go get some whiskey for your husband," Yamcha said in her ear after planting a kiss on his cheek. Bulma stirred a little and was eager to slap him but she held back 

"Yes, dear," she said smiling as she went to get what her husband was asking for. After several glasses of alcohol, her husband decided that her presence was no longer necessary and sent her to his quarters, as it was time for the men to play cards and smoke their cigars. Bulma thanked him internally and gladly left the horrific party.

Hours were passing and Bulma no longer knew what to do in her room, tossing and turning were not working. So she decided that getting a glass of water to help her fall asleep was the best option, since fortunately since the house was so big, she had other ways to get to the kitchen without running into her husband's playroom. She tied her hair in a high ponytail and started her way through the long, dark corridors. Hearing no noise or laughter, the party was clearly over.

After a few moments of walking, when he was not far away I heard some sighs. "What the hell?" Bulma whispered to herself, as she listened through the doors, to get to the one the noises were coming from. This part of the house was completely empty, as it was the guest rooms when a friend or relative needed to spend the night. As she stood in front of this Bulma she could recognize moans, her heart began to race as she opened the door a little, seeing the scene that was recreated in front of her.

Immediately Bulma put a hand to her mouth, while her blue eyes could not take their eyes off the scene. It was none other than Yamcha with a beautiful redheaded damsel who rode him madly. Bulma was shocked, she never felt anything for him and was disgusted by him but this situation, breaking her marriage vows like this, affected her. Silent tears fell from her eyes when she saw such a vulgar scene and immediately she ran away from the place, not wanting to see more. She ran into the kitchen and out into the garden. She ran and ran, never stopping. Until a tanned back forced her to stop abruptly, the widow-peaked man turned quickly, looking as if he was going to scream at the intruder who almost made him fall over, yet when he saw a Bulma with tears in her eyes, sobbing and her face red from crying, he was shocked.

She didn't react and just hugged him with all the strength she had, she needed someone, _she had nothing here, no friends or family, no husband to love her, nothing_. "I can't take this anymore," I whispered to a dazed Vegeta.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the reading was more bearable! Always trying to improve and learn.  
> I thank you for your comments that inspire me to continue writing, they are the flame of my creativity.


	4. Strawberry Lips

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need to thank GrammarGrrrl deeply before starting this chapter, thanks for the correction of my chapters, you are the best!

Vegeta didn't react in the minutes that seemed like hours. The blue-haired woman wouldn't let go, and he really didn't know what to do. With a sigh, he patted his back trying to give him some encouragement and at the same time see if the woman would deign to let go. As he did this she seemed to understand at last and parted, wiping the tears from her eyes, without looking at him.

"I'm sorry," whispered Bulma, cursing inwardly for showing weakness to a mere farmer. She fixed her white ankle-length nightgown and sat in the grass, lying on her back in a tree. She took a small white flower and began to play with its petals. "You know, I never asked you your name," she whispered amusingly 

"That shouldn't matter to you, lady. But my name is Vegeta," he sighed, crossing his strong arms across his chest, staring at her. What a strange woman... How does a lady of her class run away at night, in a nightgown, and sit on the floor like a six-year-old? "While we're on the subject, may I dare ask you what you're doing here at this hour?"

Bulma laughed as she looked away from the flower, now without petals, into the starry sky. "Your lord, Yamcha. He was fucking a redhead in one of the guest rooms. That fucker is not only raping me or pulling my hair, but he also has to pull his vows out of his ass as well" Bulma's anger was getting more and more noticeable. 

"I think that vocabulary is not appropriate for a woman of her status" Vegeta said rather surprised. Where had she learned to be such a foul mouth? Even the one who was a simple slave didn't have that vocabulary. At least not in public. 

"To hell with status, to hell with everything. I’M ALREADY AVAILABLE" Bulma got up furiously and started walking around muttering to herself. Vegeta saw her raising an eyebrow.

Yeah,  _ this woman is really crazy. _

"I KNOW!" Bulma's cry of happiness jumping for joy. Vegeta jumped a little from her place because of the sudden burst of happiness that came from Bulma. Who could change his mood so suddenly? She turned to Vegeta pointing at him as he approached with a cynical look. "You will help me, you will help me escape from here," she said smiling as she nodded as if satisfied with her plan.

"Wow wow, stop right there crazy woman" said Vegeta, already tired of this. "You won't get me into any crazy scheme, and certainly not one that involves the Lord," he walked further and further away from her.

Bulma didn't let it go very far when I took her arm "I know you're not happy here...I mean, there's a reason you always have that grumpy face or am I wrong? "She said funny, the man took his arm from her touch and turned to see her 

"I've already tried to leave here, but I can't. Thanks to this damn thing" I growl showing him his arm, on which was a kind of tattoo with a series of numbers "these numbers, are my slave numbers. If I try to get out of here, someone will find me, turn me over to Lord Yamcha and punish me.”

"That's... that's horrible." Bulma sigh. She knew a slave's life was not a bed of roses, but to get to the point of taking them as numbers? That's awful. Bulma's thoughts were cut short when she observed Vegeta sitting in the grass, she followed him and sat down next to him.

"How come you came to Mr. Yamcha's room?" She said while looking at his profile,  _ he was handsome. _

"My father sold me as a child to his father. To pass the time one of the slaves, Nappa, taught me everything I know about gardening and the fields. When Mr. Yamcha's father passed away I continued to work here," he said sighing as he threw small stones ahead.

"Oh... I see" Bulma was a little uncomfortable. Not knowing what to say she took his hand in hers and looked at him "I'll help you get out of here and you'll help me. You are a good man, Vegeta, and you don't have to rot here because of this Yamcha's idiot," said Bulma confidently.

Vegeta saw his hands joined and grunted as he put space between them. "If so, how do you plan to do that?" Now it was his turn to look at her. Onyx vs Blue, the moonlight was shining on both eyes like lamps, a small tickle on Vegeta's chest appeared, but he ignored it.

"Well, you're lucky I'm a fucking genius" Bulma winked at him smiling "First, your tattoo Well that's easy, I was thinking I can create a base of your skin color and cover that tattoo easily. “

"Base? What's a base?" said Vegeta in confusion. 

Bulma sighed "it's a makeup that..."

"I won't wear makeup," Vegeta said flatly, crossing his arms on his chest again

"You will use"

"No"

"Yes"

"WHAT NOT!"

"Stop being such a pussy! It's not a big deal, watch" Bulma raised her nightgown a little higher than her right thigh and drooled a little on her hand.

"That's disgusting," said Vegeta in disgust,  _ if this woman was definitely crazy. _

"Shut up and look" Growled Bulma and started rubbing her wet hand on her inner thigh, after a few seconds, the makeup started to come off and a big purple bruise that wasn't there before started to appear.

An unexplainable pain pierced Vegeta, the woman's thigh from nowhere turned a frightening green-violet color. Clearly someone had done it to her and at the thought of it, her fists clenched, wanting to hit the idiot, who knew very well who he was. "That... He did that?" 

"Yes...but that doesn't matter, I just wanted to show you how well it works, if you cover this up...your tattoo will be very easy," said Bulma, trying to change the subject, this was not something she was proud of. A heat soon appeared on her inner thigh, when she looked down she could see how Vegeta's big tanned hand covered practically her entire thigh. 

"I'm sorry," Vegeta whispered, looking into his eyes again, without taking his handoff. "Bulma, tell me the plan you have, we'll get out of this," he took one of the blue tufts that were sticking out of his face because of the wind and placed it behind his ear, Vegeta couldn't think anymore when suddenly strawberry-flavored lips were on hers.

When was the last time he kissed someone? He didn't remember. His lips were soft, delicate, and definitely tasted like strawberries. He continued the kiss, a little dazed.

But as soon as it started, it ended. Bulma quickly broke up in surprise, touching his lips "I... I'm sorry!" She got up quickly "Emm emm, listen, tomorrow we will meet here again and I will tell you the plan in detail. I have to go and again I'm sorry " Vegeta didn't have time to answer her because she ran away.

_ What had just happened? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally our Vegebul starts to show up... What will happen now?   
> I deeply appreciate your comments that encourage me to continue every day. I love you!


	5. Red Sould

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a long, long time, I came back. I apologize to my readers for the delay... I had some complications and writer's block didn't help. With nothing more to say, I leave the chapter to you.

Bulma was not one of those people who regretted much. In fact, she was quite proud of her decisions. Sometimes they weren't the right ones, but in Bulma's proud mind, they were.

Yet what clever excuse could she give for what had happened to Vegeta? None. Yesterday she was eating breakfast as normally as possible so that Yamcha would not notice her discomfort. _She had kissed the fucking gardener!_

"I'm having a meeting in the game room tonight. I want you to take care of dinner so that my friends can see that you are not just a pair of tits. That you can actually do something," he said quietly without looking away from his plate, eating without flinching.

_ Fucking son of a bitch. _

Bulma squeezed the knife tightly, taking a deep breath. _Think Bulma, this is perfect._ You will be able to escape and deliver the plans to Vegeta earlier than expected. Hold on, be strong.

"Of course, sir. What would you like for the menu?"

"Surprise me," he lifted his shoulders and stood while wiping his mouth with a napkin. "I have to go into town to sign some things. I hope everything will be in order when I return. I have to save money, so I fired the cleaning lady. You will have to do the cleaning yourself," he said before leaving.

Bulma nodded silently, at least that idiot wouldn't be around to see what she was doing. After finishing her breakfast she got up and started her chores.

Despite the cleaning tasks, the day went by quite quickly. The excitement that she would soon be free did not cease to resonate in Bulma's head throughout the day. Any small break she had, she would hide so that she could review her plans she would carry out with Vegeta.

_Vegeta._ She would not deny that more than once he appeared in her mind, his lips, his caramel-colored skin that was so different from hers… his calloused hand on her thigh. A chill ran through her being, but she had to admit that thinking about him was pleasant.

Bulma came out of her bath and finished dressing properly for the evening. Luckily she didn't have to be in the company of her husband tonight and pretend with his friends. What she did have to do was bring them food and drinks, so she had to be "presentable". She wore an amber dress and a pearl necklace over her hidden neckline, her hair pulled up in a crown braid, light make-up, and low heels. A little perfume and she was ready, all that was left was to go to the kitchen and finish organizing the dishes.

While she was finishing decorating the dishes, Yamcha appeared in the kitchen, came over to his side, and looked critically at the dishes. "Let's see how they taste," she whispered, sniffing and grabbing a piece of meat.

Just then Vegeta made his presence felt in the kitchen, _perfect_. Bulma tensed up but decided to ignore it, it seems that Vegeta had the same plan as he was dedicated to leaving the vegetables in silence

"IT'S DISGUSTING!" Yamcha's great cry ruined any thought in Bulma's mind, which she looked at in fear and some anger.

"But... What didn't you like? I can change it," he said as gently as possible, he could feel Vegeta's body tighten up behind her.

"Everything, you'll do it again but it better be quick. "Angry grunt turning around, starting to leave. The rage of bulma increased and without thinking, he threw one of the plates to the floor.

_Bad idea_.

The sound of broken porcelain echoed through the silent room, two pairs of eyes staring at it, one angry, the other frightened. "Fucking bitch" Yamcha snarled and returned to her with a determined step, Bulma just closed her eyes waiting for the big slap that was coming. However, this one never came.

Bulma opened her eyes in surprise at the sight of a strong tanned arm clutching Yamcha's wrist meters from her face. "Don't hurt her," Vegeta said amidst grunts, her eyes filled with pure fury.

Yamcha looked down at Vegeta's arm. "Excuse me? Do I have to discipline your ass again, Vegeta?" he said as he held a gun to Vegeta's stomach with his free hand. Bulma, she went backward, putting his hand on his chest, breathing heavily. Yamcha was not an idiot, you could tell from a distance that Vegeta could knock him out in the blink of an eye.

Vegeta reluctantly let go of Yamcha's arm but did not take his eyes off it. Bulma watched the exchange of glances and the urge to run with Vegeta grew stronger and stronger.

Yamcha's laughter could be heard in the large empty kitchen "So... you not only reveal yourself to my Vegeta, but you also disobey my orders, and for that, you will pay" He drew his weapon again and pointed it at him "Walk to the stick, NOW!" Yamcha growled angrily. Bulma without understanding tried to approach him.

"Yamcha, please don't hurt him," whispered Bulma, trying to calm him down. This, however, made him angrier and he took her by the arm as they started to walk towards the blessed stick.

"So you're making friends with the servants, huh? Now you'll see what happens to your "friends" "Yamcha grunt.

The damn stick was very high and planted in the grass, at its sides you could see two ropes. Bulma didn't like what it could be at all. Yamcha took Vegeta's arms and tied them on the stick, then not far away he took a whip.

"No," whispered Bulma, covering her mouth and trying to keep her tears from coming out of her eyes.

"All right Vegeta, that'll be four for you today," said Yamcha smiling as he tore Vegeta's shirt, showing the large scars that were once made by the same whip. Yamcha turned to Bulma without stopping smiling, "This is your fault, now poor Vegeta will suffer because you are a whore. Think twice before you do such things, darling."

"Hit me at once" growled Vegeta with his eyes closed and his hands tightening the rope that held him tight.

"Oh, we're excited... I like it... but... I won't do it this time, Vegeta. My wife will do it" he said as he looked at Bulma and handed him the whip.

Bulma between cries, looked at Yamcha pleading "Please don't do this to me" she said between sobs. But he turned a deaf ear and grabbed Bulma by the hair and dragged her onto Vegeta's back.

"IF I TELL YOU TO DO SOMETHING, YOU DO IT. NOW PLAY " Yamcha cried out angrily, throwing her away carelessly. Bulma looked at Vegeta's candy-colored back in pain, that poor boy had suffered too much too...

"Bulma just hit me, so we can get this over with," whispered Vegeta so that only she could hear her, which distracted her from her thoughts. She just sighed and cried and got up from the floor.

"I want you to count the four, both of you," said Yamcha. Then, Bulma began to knock.

"One"

_ Whip _

"Two"

_ Whip _

"Three"

_ Whip _

"Four"

_ Whip. _

The wounds reopened and some new ones bled from the man's back. He only counted as he was told, without giving him the pleasure of shouting once.

Then Bulma knew at that moment, that they both had to flee from there, quickly. If he wanted to stay alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading to the end, your comments encourage me to continue

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it. I plan to do a few chapters but long, or as long as I can hahaha.  
> It would be an honor for me if you could tell me below what you thought of this first chapter. What do you think will happen? Thanks a lot anyway.


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